Blue Mountains
by taida
Summary: Sirius expresses his concern at the end of third year, and Harry remembers what it felt like to have dreams and a sense of curiosity. New school!Harry, possibly HPxOMC


**Blue Mountains**

* * *

The mountains depicted on the page were a surreal butter yellow, snow-capped and chilly looking against a grey sky. He could make out the individual crevices of the peaks based solely on the stark blue contrast of the shadows across the entire ridge, made of softer hills and ragged cliff-face. The picture sat surrounded by text describing the Blue Mountains of North America, one of the many geographic landmarks featured in the book.

Harry wasn't very good at reading, especially the longer words that talked about geography; in fact, that was one of the only words he could make out on the cover of the fairly heavy book. They had learned it once in primary, and he'd remembered many days after how enjoyable that particular lesson had been. Dudley had fallen asleep at the start of the lecture.

So while he was only able to make out the one word, 'geography', he could also pick out lots of little words, like colors and the names of countries. He knew these butter-yellow mountains were supposed to be blue (he liked them anyway), and that the tallest mountain was in Asia, and that the Swiss, whoever they were somewhere in Europe, had a truly magnificent run of 'Alps', which many people liked to climb on.

Every mountain range came with many beautiful pictures, which was why Harry was so dutiful about reading as many words as he could; he liked the pictures so much, it was worth it to find out that the yellow mountains were supposed to be blue, even if they weren't, and that the tallest mountains were under water, even though he'd never get to see a picture of them because the water was too cloudy.

Some mountains were actually volcanoes that erupted a very long time ago, which Harry liked to think about, especially because all the photos showed these mountains surrounded by bright flowers and tourists, and not a hint of lava or ashes.

Some mountains were volcanoes that _hadn't _erupted, which was even more exciting. Harry was pretty sure that people who saw volcanoes erupt normally died, for the book's descriptions sounded very violent, but he was fairly certain he'd be all right with dying if he meant he could watch a mountain erupt someday.

There were many mountains in the book, sometimes standing together in big long families, while others sat on flat land all alone, and you could make out their silhouettes from miles away. The biggest mountains people had climbed, and little mountains were generally ignored unless something important had happened on them.

Harry's favorite mountains, however, were the Not-Blue Mountains in North America, because even though they only got two pages in the book of geography, and were very firmly, clearly labeled at the start of the section in bold print, 'BLUE MOUNTAINS', they were the most beautiful yellow color he had ever seen, even when they weren't supposed to be.

* * *

"Harry…look at me. Please, I just think you should consider it." Sirius stared at him solemnly from across the table, only a hint of urgency creeping into the corners of his eyes as he watched his godson curl his hands around the china cup. "It's just—" he had to swallow quickly to push back his rising voice, and the choking feeling that was pounding in his ribcage. "—just not safe for you there. It isn't. I can barely believe half of the things you've told me about." Here Harry looked up from his tea in alarm, achingly green eyes wide and anxious. "It's not that I don't believe you, it's that I _do _believe you, and that's what scares me."

Sirius set down the fork he'd been fiddling with and stretched both hands across the table to extract Harry's teacup from him and enfold his tiny, child-like hands in a soft grasp. "Harry—_Hogwarts isn't safe for you."_

The boy bit is his lip. "…I know, Sirius. But it's home, I can't just walk away from it. Ron and Hermione, and even Neville and Dean and Thomas; I don't want to leave them."

"I know pup, the gods know I understand. I was just like you, hated by my blood family and fleeing to Hogwarts every year. The difference is that I don't have a bloody dark lord after my head." Harry flinched, and Sirius hated how that moved his entire, malnourished figure until even the boy's hand trembled. He gave it a light squeeze, and ran his thumbs across his godson's knuckles warmly. "Dumbledore isn't doing his goddamn job, and I won't stand for it, even if I am a wanted fugitive. In fact, if Dumbledore had been doing his job since the beginning, I wouldn't be a fugitive at all."

Harry watched him with quiet eyes, before squeezing back slightly. "That's true—I don't understand why he can't do anything for you." Sirius's heart clenched at how teary the thirteen year old looked, tight-lipped and desperate across a cheap wooden table in a little run down teashop in the middle of muggle London. "Isn't he the head of the Wizengamot? Isn't that a law body? Why hasn't he done anything yet?"

Sirius swallowed helplessly for a second time. "Dumbledore's help isn't as merciful as it looks pup. He's in a position to do a lot of good, but…powerful men rarely do small good deeds. They're focused on larger problems, not people-sized ones." Harry didn't look like he understood very well, but he had stopped looking like he was about to cry, so Sirius went on. "You know Snape as a rubbish professor, of course. And, well, he was also a spy for the light during the last Wizarding War." Harry nodded fiercely, hating the man for his present actions but unable to condemn him fully because of how ambiguous his past was. "Did anyone ever tell you how he became a spy?"

Harry shook his head.

Sirius let out a long sigh, and leaned back into his chair, releasing his godson's hand. "Snape was Lily's childhood friend. When he was sorted into Slytherin, she tried to maintain contact with him, but he pushed her away to get into the good graces of his housemates. Classic snake behavior." He picked up the fork again, and ran his fingers along its clean, dull silver prongs. "Well, years went by, and Snape got the invitation all his housemates eventually got; join the Dark Lord, or be labeled a traitor of the Slytherin House and the Dark. Some members of the house could get away with just being sympathizers, mostly the girls and heirs to the more neutral families who had a business to uphold and couldn't get caught up in the fervor without being penalized. But a halfblood like Snape was near required to take the full Mark. They wanted proof of his loyalty. So he took it, I think it was his sixth or seventh year."

He took a breath and let it out slowly to continue, but the sole waitress of the half-full joint came over just at that moment to check up on them both.

"Some more hot water, ma'am." Sirius handed her their pot. "Har—Harrison? Do you want something to eat?" Harry shook his head, but Sirius gazed at him rather expectantly, so he hesitantly pointed out a ham and cheese sandwich on the menu the woman offered him.

"'Course sweetheart, and I'll be back with the water in a moment, sir." She whisked off with a wink at them both.

"When was the last time the Dursleys fed you?" Sirius finally asked in the calmest, mildest voice he could manage.

Harry winced and twisted his worn long sleeve a bit. "They don't truly starve me Sirius."

"The fact that you have to add a qualifier bothers me, pup. They're a shit family, and neglectful, and James and Lily would hunt everyone involved in this whole goddamn mess and rip them to pieces if they were alive. As it is," He leaned forward, and there was no grief from mentioning his dead friends in his eyes these days, "I'm alive, and I'm not constrained to a bleeding prison any more. The law still isn't very friendly with me, I'll admit that much, but I'm prepared to do anything and everything you ask of me, Harry. I'm your godfather, and you're all I've got left."

Harry was silent for a long moment before a small smile broke his face. "Not counting Remus?"

"What?" Sirius blinked. "No, no, Remus too, definitely. But he can take care of himself. He's not a trouble magnet of the epic proportions you seem to boast."

Harry _was _smiling, and still smiling, and it nearly killed Sirius to look over at this little child of James and Lily's, gazing at him with lovely green eyes and a bright soul getting darker and darker every day. He wanted to _help _him.

"That's why I'm begging you, pup; don't go back to Hogwarts. Not this time, not with this tournament I've heard about at the ministry." Harry's smile dimmed into a contemplative look.

"Do you know why they've brought it back?"

"No, but I doubt it's for any respectable reason." Sirius growled. "It could be over international matters even, not something local to Britain. They drag over our intramural schools from France and Bulgaria for the event, so its possible they're trying to strengthen ties on the continent."

Harry's mouth parted suddenly, as though a thought just struck him. "Other schools…there are other school besides Hogwarts out there, aren't there?"

"Of course!" The dark-haired man barked in laughter. "There are quite a few, actually. Asia has some of the most impressive, magic has been a focus of academia for six or seven thousand years, and the school are very well-established and traditional. Europe's got big names only, though; that is, schools that draw from their specific region of the European populace. Hogwarts is well known because it's a larger school for a relatively small region. We don't accept anyone outside of the United Kingdom."

"What about the Americas?" His godson had propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward, listening intently. Sirius hadn't expected so much interest, but felt himself grin wider.

"Both Africa and South America have remained places in which magic is still maintained by local tribal connections. There aren't really any actual institutions, only families that practice magic and pass it down amongst the communities. North America's only got one officially recognized school, in the northwest somewhere I think." He saw Harry swallow, and narrowed his eyes, just realizing where their conversation had veered. "What're you thinking, pup?"

"By leaving Hogwarts…I could go to a different school? In another country?" Harry spread his hands across the tablecloth slowly, tilting his head to watch the wrinkles form. Sirius reached across the table for the second time that early afternoon, and placed his hand over the young boy's left.

"That's what I was thinking, pup."

The waitress brushed across the shop towards them, carrying a pot of fresh hot water in one hand, and a sandwich on another, and Harry realized suddenly how hungry he had been. Sirius poured them both more tea, and contentedly watched his godson eat in silence.

* * *

_A/N: I've always really loved a good differentschool!Harry fic (especially_ Bloody Skies _by Toki Mirage), but recently have been driven mad by some of the over-the-top, extremely cliched new school stories in the archives. So, I finally couldn't bear it any longer, and wrote this over winter vacation in the car driving to Seattle, right past, yes, Oregon state's Blue Mountain range. Let me know if this is the right quality story to try to continue; I really enjoy worldbuilding, and I want to try my hand at OCs that are enjoyable and don't make you hate them. Toki Mirage's OCs were pretty much my favorite part of her writing, so I'm immersed in admiration still..._

_If you're reading this, thanks for reading through this first chapter! I know they're sometimes not very worthwhile, since they're so short, but thank you for trying it. Please, leave even a single word of feedback!_

_~taida_


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